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Ebony Wings: Chapter 11
Chapter 11 'Theresa ' “I never liked pistachios.” Theresa complained. Christopher peeled open one of the nuts easily and threw it into his mouth. “Stop your complaining.” Theresa sighed. “It’s embarrassing to say that the reason that I don’t like it is because I can’t break it open.” “Seriously?” She nodded. “Here.” He reached for the nut in her hands and positioned his index fingers on the top shells of the nut. “You dig your nails in here and pull it apart, like this.” He peeled the nut open. “Thanks.” She put the nut in her mouth. Both of them were sitting cross-legged on Christopher’s bed (because she didn’t want to make her own bed dirty and he was a guy, they don’t care about cleanliness), opposite of each other with a bag of Pistachios between them. “So watcha wanna do now?” He asked. “How about a game?” “What kind?” “It’s an old game I used to play when I meet new people. We take turns stating a fact about ourselves. You lose when you run out of facts.” She explained. “Alright, shoot. You first.” “Okay… Well what’s your favourite colour?” “Blue.” “I thought it would be black.” He smirked. “You would think wouldn’t you? My turn; favourite fruit?” “Pears. My turn, hobbies?” “Reading mostly.” “You’re not Dyslexic?” She raised an eyebrow. “Nope, is there significance to that?” “Yes, most demigods are dyslexic and ADHD. Dyslexia is because our minds are hardwired for Ancient Greek while the ADHD is our battlefield reflexes. We usually have both or one or the other.” “Well I have ADHD, so that counts for something. Are you Dyslexic or ADHD?” “Dyslexic yeah but not ADHD.” “So we’re opposites. That’s cool.” He swallowed another nut. “Okay my turn. Boyfriends, how many?” “One, ended soon after it began.” “Can I ask why?” “We got attacked by monsters on our first date. He freaked out on me and I’ve been boyfriendless ever since.” She sighed. “Now you asked two questions, so I can ask two questions now.” “You girls and your constant changing of rules.” He complained. “Go ahead.” “Okay, number of girlfriend and the amount of girls you’ve kissed.” “1 and 0” “You had a girlfriend but never kissed her?” “Yeah, it was a relationship in the sense that I liked her and she liked me. It wasn’t anything serious or anything.” “I’m sorry to hear that.” “It’s okay. Worked out for the best, she got adopted and the last time I saw her she was attending a college in San Francisco; while I’m here eating nuts when a girl that probably doesn’t have a natural hair colour.” “Hey! My hair is naturally blond. It’s just so light that it’s white.” “Sure.” He feigned interest. “My turn, tell me about your dad.” “Why do you what to know about my dad?” She frowned at him. “Well…I guess it’s because I’ve never had one.” He answered truthfully. “Oh. I’m sorry.” “It’s okay; I mean you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.” “No it’s okay.” Theresa shifted, trying not to make her discomfort obvious. “My dad was a painter, William Oecila. I think you already know that. He thought me everything I know, to paint, to love, to smile. He never talked about the past or my mom; he moved forward and preserved the past with his paintings, leaving his own memories for future ones; that’s what he always said.” “He…was a gentleman. Always treated a woman with respect, not the I-want-to-get-in-your-pants kind mind you, he was the old-school 80s kind of gentleman and-” She paused. “I don’t know what else to say really.” “It’s fine.” Christopher dug into the bag of pistachios but came up empty. “Well it’s your turn to ask now.” “Okay.” Theresa thought about it. “Tell me about the orphanage you were in? What was it like?” “Well it wasn’t easy. We didn’t have TVs or games or anything like that. We only had necessities; old Aaira made it that way so that we weren’t depended on technology. She taught us to be street smart, to take care of ourselves. She let us fight our fights; the bullies would pick on the weak. The weak had to either get strong or continued to get bullied; those of us who were strong defended the weak.” “Like you?” He nodded. “I was weak once, there was this kid who always protected me. One day he was adopted and I had to get strong on my own. My first weapons were always words; I made a bully cry when I scolded him really badly. If words failed then it would go to fists.” He winced as if reliving a bad memory. “Now that I think about it and with what Chiron told me, Aaira was training us to be demigods in her own way.” “It was hard huh?” “Yeah, but I wouldn’t change it if I had the chance.” He crumpled the bag and threw it in the bin. “When I was 14, I ran. I didn’t have a reason to be there anymore, the friends I made had been adopted. Spent two years on my own, until Aaira found me again and pulled me back into the orphanage.” “Do you have a picture of her?” He nodded. Christopher reached into his back and rummaged through it a bit. “You should really unpack.” She muttered. He scowled at her and held out the frame. “Here.” The woman in the photo was short and petite, her face was wrinkled with time but her almond-coloured eyes remained sharp and focused. Her hair was tied up in a bun, completely void of its previous colour. A young Christopher stood beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders and smiling. “You were close huh?” She hand the photo back to him. “The closest thing I’ve had to a mother my whole life.” He set the photo on his bedside table. “So do you want to continue playing the game?” “Not really.” “I can agree with you on that.” Theresa turned to the clock that was hanging on the wall. It was almost 7 o’clock. “It’s almost dinnertime, you should get going.” “Not really hungry to be honest.” “Me neither.” Theresa hugged her legs. The curtains had been drawn so she wouldn’t be able to see the currently setting sun and the blackness that was crawling over the sky and blanketing it with darkness. Despite only knowing Christopher for a day, she was more comfortable with him than anybody else. Looking at him now, she could see his soul. It was still manifesting as two black wings on his back. Even though his soul was menacing, Theresa knew he was a good guy. He had defended her twice so far; and the first time he had barely known her. The thought that he wanted to get into her pants did cross her mind at some point, but he didn’t seem to be the kind of guy. He flirted sometimes but it was just teasing and for fun. They stared at each other for a long time. He looked so vulnerable, she hated that. In the short time she knew him Christopher was loud, sarcastic, snarky but he made her smile with his antics and words. “I’m going to take a shower, unless you want to go first?” He asked finally, breaking the silence. She shook her head. Christopher didn’t ask her if she wanted to join him or teased her. He just got up and headed for the toilet. She sighed. He probably just needed time; he was a guy after all. Her father had taught her that when a guy needed quiet time, he really wants quiet time. Theresa cleaned up his bed a little bit, cleaned the crumbs off and straightened the covers, it was the least she could do. She could see the darkness outside; she would usually be asleep at this time. What would happen if Christopher found out about her secret? He would think she was a freak. But she would eventually have to tell him, especially since they shared a room. What if one day he wanted to sleep before she did? He would want to switch off the lights off and then she would have to be surrounded by the disgusting, grimy darkness…. She shook her head to get rid of those thoughts, now was not the time to freak out. Christopher was going to come out any moment now and he would have questions if she suddenly was in fetal position. Theresa sighed and climbed onto her bed and curled up, more out of habit than anything else since she had spent the better part of her life cowering in fear of the dark. She heard Christopher exiting the toilet and could feel his gaze on her. Her back was towards him so she couldn’t see him and he; her. She felt him pulled the covers over her and was half expecting him to kiss her goodnight, he didn’t however. “Goodnight Princess, sweet dreams.” He told her. She heard him walk away and then sitting on his bed. “Goodnight to you too.” She smiled, closing her eyes and embracing the only darkness she would ever be comfortable with. Ebony Wings Main Page <----Previous Chapter [[Ebony Wings: Chapter 12|Next Chapter---->]] Child of the Night, Eyes of Gold Harbinger of Shadows, an old ancient Soul . 20:23, April 2, 2014 (UTC) Category:Chapter Page Category:Archie-Son of Poseidon Category:Fallen Angel Series(Remake)